That Was the Week That Was

Summertime was so nice. No driving kids hither and yon, no extra curricular activities to interrupt my after-work catnap, no schools sending home letters every other day asking to support this cause and that booster club. Now, with two in elementary and two in high school, the fall is shaping up to be one long day after another.
Monday choir practice
Tuesday Boy Scouts and the Improv group
Wednesday bowling, band practice, and religious ed.
Thursday after school study groups and play rehearsals
Friday karate practice
Good Lord where did my week go? Not to mention my gas.
And my money.

My feet are worn out...

and I just can't bear to walk from the Teacups to New Orleans Square.

Let's hear it for The Mouse. The Disney execs, in their infinite wisdom, have declared 2009 as the Year of Celebration at their parks. Throughout 2009, you can get into Disneyland, Cal. Adventure, or Disney World FOR FREE on your birthday. That means our family can go six times next year. Two days in a row in September.
And we'll save enough to buy two churros and one frozen lemonade. Hurrah!

Vampires Suck

...but in a good way.
Now that Sopranos is over, my Sunday nights have been taken over by the new HBO show "True Blood." Saw the preview info at this year's SD Comic-Con, and was interested enough to give it a try. When I found out the show was based on a series of Southern America Vampire Novels though, I almost passed it by. Were the vamps raised on blood and gumbo? Was Paula Dean going to stop in with her recipe for blood sausage? I figured it was going to end up being very romantic and not a guy show at all.

After the first two episodes, all I can say is Holy Shit! I'm hooked. Anna Paquin does a good turn as the prim and proper Sookie. Stephen Moyer is quite engaging as the lead vamp, Bill Compton. And Lois Smith as Sookie's grandma is just as cute as punch. Wait, this sounds too girly - where's the guy stuff in all this mush?

Sex. Rough, breast-bouncing, ass-slapping sex my friends. Humans with humans. Vampires with humans. Vampires with vampires. Chained to the ceiling bondage humping. Just look for the two little puncture wounds on the inner thighs of most of the women in the show and you'll know who's been biting whom. And where...

This show gets two fangs up.

my bad

What the? Two posts down?
Well, thanks to a little scooter bird, I've been advised not to post 'sensitive' information about work on here. Just in case, donchaknow.

all night chicken

Don't get me wrong. I'm a tolerant person. Live and let live - that's my motto. Unless you get on my bad side. Then I'd rather let you say hello to my little friend. And take your car.
Now, along with being tolerant, I'm also not a bigot. I understand that different cultures behave in different ways from mine. However...when their culture begins to infringe upon my basic rights as a homeowner, then they'd best be ready to have me come over and complain. Or send the cops.

The Hmong neighbors next door raise chickens. In the city limits. Against the law, so I've been told. And I've told the cops. And the cops have told them. Many times. Just doesn't seem to sink in. Apparently today is some big Hmong festival day. So last night (and I mean all last night and into this morning) there's been a chicken fry. Killing, plucking, chopping, quartering, marinating, frying. Over open flames. My living room, nay my entire house, smelled like the fire pit at Mission Bay after a few pallets had been set ablaze. My first trip to their fence at midnight to ask them to tone it down and douse the flame worked - for about an hour. Then, assuming I had met Mr. Sandman, they started up again, not realizing my Sainted Wife was still up.

My second trip to the fence at 2am had a bit more vitriol behind it, and they politely refrained. Until 7am this morning when their caravans of relatives pulled up, acquired every available on-street parking space, and fired up the pit in earnest. We've been neighbors for 10 years. Didn't even have the decency to send a few wings and thighs my way for our trouble.

Better go... I think I see the cops coming again...

giving up control

I wonder if my parents felt like this when I got my driver's license?
Watching Number One Son take off down the street w/o me in the passenger seat as friend and confidant (more like nagging back seat driver) was one of the hardest things to do today. He passed his test yesterday, making only 6 errors during the drive - compared to the 12 I made waaayyyy back in 1976.
Now the only things I have to worry about are: higher insurance, buying more gas, snogging in the back seat, and the inevitable "Dad - I think I'm lost!"
Hide your daughters - Wild Red's kid is on the prowl!